


Teach Me A Lesson

by TipsyTippi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bondage, Breeding, Corporal Punishment, Edgeplay, Fucking Machines, Glory Hole, Kind of non-con, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Medical Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Stuck in a wall, but he likes it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TipsyTippi/pseuds/TipsyTippi
Summary: When Lance is captured on a mission to a hostile planet where punishment is unconventional, he's left to endure whatever his his captors dish out to him.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 207





	Teach Me A Lesson

Lance wasn’t sure how he got into this mess. How was it that there was never an easy in-and-out mission that went as planned? Didn’t the universe owe them that much? The least it could do after the constant flying into battle with the constant risk of death to constantly save innocent lives would be to give them a freaking break every now and again.

But no. It was never that easy.

Allura had informed the team after gathering them for a mission briefing that they were tasked with the emergency acquirement of a precious metal that Slav needed to complete teludav. Problem was, the only currently known, and least dangerous as he put it, pocket of it was only found on a hostile planet, a planet that the Galra had been steering clear of, at that. According to Allura the original inhabitants ten thousand years ago had died out, leaving a then-primitive race on the planet to evolve, now not much older than the human race, and develop the planet with the technology left behind from its previous inhabitants. They were mono-gendered, a tall, humanoid looking race of people with white skin and hair, giving them an unpleasant, ethereal look. Allura had called them the Selvar.

But finding technology rather than developing it themselves caused tensions on their planet. A constant brokering of information on how to fully utilize the technology, and how to develop it further into new forms of weapons and leverage amongst the planet’s communities. These tensions led to nuclear war before they could advance much further. Now their race was dying out, and they were unwelcoming to outsiders. What’s more a race teetering on extinction established contract births, and even their criminals rather than face any long-term punishment were used in forced breeding programs. In short, the universe viewed them as savage, hostile, and not wealthy enough in any kind of resource to really bother with. Except… the meteorite that happened to land on their planet a hundred odd years ago that Slav is certain contains the material he needs.

Now the meteorite sat in labs, the Selvar likely not fully aware of what they had or how it could be fully utilized. As far as their communications went, they were currently trying to determine how malleable the material was and what kind of radiation output was coming from the rock. Clearly, they hadn’t a clue what had landed right in their laps.

And if one of them were to be captured breaking into these said labs, and a paladin be captured and charged with planetary trespassing, and that one paladin would end up being him? What were the odds?

* * *

The judge, a large dark hood around his head, his beady eyes the only feature that could be made out in the shadows of his face, looked down at Lance with hard eyes. Lance had only spent a night in a small holding cell, fed little and forced to change from his paladin armor to thin, wispy white clothes. He’d shivered through the night as he waited to either hear of some kind of word that his team was negotiating for his release, or he’d be taken to receive some kind of punishment. It had been the latter that came first.

The hall was filled with the androgynous, pale white-haired people, all with the same beady and intense gaze. It was hard to discern one Selvan from another as they all wore nearly identical clothing apart from the judge and the guards that had escorted him in in metal cuffs. Thankfully, the Selvar seemed aware of intergalactic translators, despite their isolationist tendencies, and had let him keep his when they confiscated his armor.

The judge read off a list of apparent crimes; three kinds of trespassing, attempted theft of confidential materials, and even one count of cultural indignation for not wearing the appropriate dress of the planet. When had that ever been a rule on any planet?

The judge cleared his throat, “Due to the following conditions, the punishment will be minimized to best suit the crime and the accused: being of an alien species not suitable to Selvar institutions, belonging to a non-hostile intergalactic organization, being previously ignorant of our standing laws, and of biology that would make traditional long-term punishment nigh obsolete, in the current circumstances. Due to the continued parlay with the supposed Paladins of Voltron, which the accused claims to be party, the verdict is for immediate punishment to be enacted in the standard of our written law until an agreement has been reached, or until such a time as evidence comes forward to cast doubt on the accused’s guilt.

“Therefore, I will instill a starting of sentence of one full cycle in the Red Rooms, after which sentencing will be paused to assess our continuing situation with the extraplanetary trespassers. That is all.”

The gavel struck and the sound resonated too loud in the room, the blood pumping through his ears doing nothing to dampen the resonate sound that seemed to shake his skull. There was murmuring through the room that boiled down to a buzzing that filled the space with white noise and all he could hear, or maybe the only thing he could focus on in his rising panic, was the harsh gasps quickening in his throat. He felt a burning behind his eyes and an uncontrollable shaking of his shoulders and his hands, still bound in the cold metal cuffs behind his back clenched until his nails hit into his palms.

“Wait! W-what does that mean?” Lance tried to raise his voice to be heard over the constant buzz of the crowd, but nothing but a pathetic mutter could break its way out of his dry, tightened throat. He almost coughed from the pain of trying to speak through his panic-choked vocal cords.

No one, not even the guards that gripped his upper arms roughly and started to drag his feet towards the large archway at the back of the hall, seemed to notice his attempts to speak. Or maybe they just didn’t care.

He tried to turn back towards the judge, please sitting on the edge of his lips, ready to beg for mercy from whatever mystery punishment awaited him on this god-forsaken planet, but the fear of gaining even more ill-favor from that stern, wrinkled face kept his mouth sealed shut.

The path through the narrow halls the guards all but dragged him bodily down passed in a blur. He could hardly process his surroundings over his beating heart and panicked breaths overtaking his senses as he tried to will himself to calm. It didn’t work.

The sound of a squeaky hinge on a tall, narrow door pulled him back to himself and Lance looked up as the guards turned the procession of three to the side to fit through the narrow space. The white room that greeted them was small, bright white light from a single crystal embedded in the ceiling casting their shadows against the floor in the only wash of color visible. The wall opposite the doorway, which closed with the whoosh of an automatic door, seemed to be built of squares, stacked and connected like a large Rubik’s cube. One guard released his left arm to walk towards the wall and easily placed his hands against the squares and began to adjust them, like a puzzle only the guard could see. When they seemed to be at the appropriate combination, the guard wrapped his fingers around a square in the center of the wall, about waist height, and pulled it from the wall entirely.

The squares from what he could tell from the guard’s hands, were thin, slats rather than cubes, and behind the one removed was a tiny circular hole that when the guard seemed to grab as easily as the slat it was his behind moved it like the wall was made of liquid, placing it precisely before releasing it, the hole staying put like it has solidified in the material again.

The guard then returned to his side and with the other’s help he was pulled forward towards the ominous, intimidating wall. They released his arms before taking a step back, close enough to no longer touch but still crowding his space all the same. “Strip,” one commanded.

He stared, mouth hanging open and eyes darting between the two, gears turning in his head as he tried to make sense of the order.

“W-what?”

“Strip. Or we do it for you,” and they both stepped slightly forward to accentuate their point, towering over him.

He huddled into himself, for a moment gripping the threads of his thin shirt as if to protect himself against their threat before he thought better of it. There was no way in hell he would be fighting out of this and then, what? Running out the door towards freedom? Without probably getting the beating of his life. Which was preferable? Did he have a choice?

Slowly, pausing with his eyes on the guards hoping that they would stop and correct themselves like this was all a miscommunication, he started to bring his shirt over his head. Neither moved, watching him carefully though they seemed to keep their gazes above his waist and their expressions were as stony as ever. With the shirt gone, he removed the slippers he’d been given, laying them side by side in front of his feet. He slowly undid the drawstring of his pants, carefully pulling them down and off his legs. He bought a little time, making sure to carefully fold the articles of clothing, laying them in a pile next to his shoes. At least he wasn’t being rushed. Lastly, he pulled his boxers down over his knees before folding them just as carefully onto the pile.

He stood in the nude, hands covering his dignity and shivered more from shame than the slight chill of the room. He stared at his feet, not daring to meet either guards gaze.

The guards finally approached and again grabbed his arms, turning him so he faced the wall before walking him forward. He watched their hands as they each with one hand fiddled with their belts, which he only now noticed hung with multiple little straps and loops. The guard to his right removed a small, black band that almost looked made of rubber with the way it wobbled between the guard’s fingers. The guard to his left suddenly grabbed both of his wrists, raising them above waist level as the first reaches towards his cock.

“No! Get away from me!” Lance croaked through his dry throat as he tried to back away, but the guard holding his wrists shook him violently and he was suddenly disoriented by the rough treatment. He couldn’t help how his eyes locked with the guard’s, wide and pleading, as a growl reprimanded him.

“Quiet. Don’t move,” the gruff voice responded.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt a pair of warm, roughened hands slide the band, which did seem to be made of some elastic material, down over his cock and carefully around his balls to squeeze snug against the base. The guard took an extra moment to situate the band, so it sat evenly and slightly more comfortably around him and he had to suppress the shudder that ran down his spine at the touch, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

Once the band was in place the guards quickly pushed him forward until his front was pressed against the wall, his cock, he realized, just the right height for the small hole that had been revealed. Lance yelped in surprise and fright as the guards seemed to act much more quickly, trying to maneuver him before he could try to struggle. He was pressed flush to the cold surface, the straps removed from the belts looping around his wrists and attached with small hooks to the wall to keep them level with his head as though the wall were permeable, though as far as he could tell with the contact on his skin it felt like glass, hard and immovable. A long strap was placed around his waist and again attached to the wall, leaving no leverage to move further from the hole and the sense of being bound and trapped had him thrashing and struggling a little too late to have any effect as the guards ignored him.

The last were his ankles, kicked apart so they were shoulder-width before being bound. He felt confused tears leaking slowly from his eyes as he swiveled his head side to side, yanking and throwing his body against the straps, instincts telling him to test their strength and fight for an escape, but they were bound tight. Not painfully, but enough that he could feel the pressure and the inability to move made his body begin to shake and he could feel his palms and pits sweating with nervous energy and his body seemed to vibrate with it. Lance’s waist could move side to side the slightest bit, but it was uncomfortable to do so as the movement almost immediately fit his cock through the little hole and trapped him further against the surface. He couldn’t move back and could hardly get enough leverage to glance behind him.

He whimpered in fear, head already spinning with terrible images of what the two persons could do to him in this position, he tucked his head as far as he could behind his shoulder and tried his best to keep one eye on the two figures behind him. But neither seemed to be bothered as they opened panels in the walls, pulling out devices and apparatuses that looked similar to IV tubes and fluids, and before he could sort his thoughts out enough to panic, the sharp prick of needles could be felt in the bend of his elbow, the tubes being inserted. He flinched at the icy feeling of fluid in his veins and he closed his eyes and groaned. There was nothing he could do to fight against the guards as they finished their setup and kept the bag close by as the drip of the IV was started.

And all of the sudden, quickly enough that he suddenly thought himself blind and his head ached as his eyes tried to adjust, the stark white light changed to dark color, a dim, reddish pink suddenly filling the room. He listened as the door slid open and shut before he was left in the darkened, silent room.

The sound of his rapid breathing was all he could focus on, which did nothing to settle his frantic heart and the shaking of his arms and legs where they remained buckled to the wall. He tapped his head against the surface in front of him a few times as though he could knock the calm into himself, forcing deep breaths into his tightened lungs as he tried to slowly process his position.

He closed his eyes, finally feeling his body start to unwind, to release the tension and allow his thoughts to slowly catch up to him. He was thankful he was left alone, that he was no longer being touched, and that, for the moment, there was no physical threat. Even behind his eyelids his vision was awash in rosy pink, further calming his frantic senses. Maybe that was their purpose, he didn’t know.

After several minutes Lance was finally able to stop shaking, his breathing coming deep and even, his wrists futilely testing and retesting the strength of his bonds which didn’t budge once. He tried to ignore the feeling of cold air around his cock, trying his best to pull free of the hole in the wall, stomach swooping at the unease of having something so delicate in an unknown space. He whimpered quietly as he pictured his team, his bedroom, his lion, and wished desperately to be home again where things made sense. God, what was waiting for him here?

The swoop in his stomach was entirely new, a mix of unpleasant shock and sudden surprising arousal as he felt something soft and warm stroke down his cock. His breath caught in his throat and he shuddered violently, his cock jumping at the completely unexpected touch, panic again trying to fill his head and his lungs, but an undeniable heat filling between his legs.

The teasing feeling of what was undeniably long, spindly fingers grazing up and down his cock. Fingertips dragging against the velvety skin before a loose fist, hardly any pressure, would pump once, twice, agonizingly slow, a flick over the head of his cock, then repeating again.

Lance trembled, his legs trying to move, feet barely lifting from the ground as he fidgeted. His stomach clenched, his shoulders pulled back, he bit his lip to keep from making any sound but couldn’t help his heavy breathing in and out of his nose. His own hands tried to find a grip on the wall, fingers flexing and clenching into his palms, elbows swinging back and forth as he tried instinctively, desperately, to move. The muscles in his thighs were tense, pressed hard to the wall as he was stopped from moving his hips back by the strap, unable to thrust as he felt the liquid heat start to build.

He squeezed his eyes shut, confusion mixing unpleasantly with arousal as he frantically tried to understand what was happening. After immobilizing him like this, in the manner that they had, there was no way this wasn’t what was awaiting him as his punishment. Was this to humiliate him? It was certainly working, despite the fact that the strong overwhelming shame was doing nothing to temper his growing erection. He felt that shame manifest itself in a few more stray tears that fell from his eyes. He felt them drip down his cheeks as his lips finally parted to allow for deeper breaths his lungs clearly needed.

The first firm grip of his cock had him whimpering as the hand held his base tightly, no longer stroking but squeezing intermittently. His cock jumped again under the pressure, now half erect, and he felt the pressure from the cock ring, ah it was clear now that that’s what it was, squeezed his base beneath his balls.

The first slow stroke from the base to the tip of his cock started to crack his control “ _Ohhh_ ,” it was more a breath of relief, and he clamped his teeth back into his lower lip to stop any more noise from escaping. The hand started to twist as it stroked, adding more stimulation to the head of his now fully erect cock, leaving little shocks running down the root of his cock through his shaking thighs and up his sweat-beading spine. He rested his forehead against the cool pane of the glass-like wall and took in a shuddering breath.

The hand again gripped the base of his cock and he stole the chance to breath deeply into his lungs, accepting the brief pause as his stomach finally unclenched and his hips relaxed. “Oh god!” He yelped as a fingertip suddenly started circling the head of his cock, slippery and adding varying degrees of pressure as the squeezing at the base continued. “ _Ahhh!”_ He lost the last of his careful control on his voice, letting his mouth hang open, entirely focused on the hands toying with his cock that he hardly gave a thought to anything else, “Nnn, _ahh,_ hnnn.”

Just as he was beginning to twitch and thrash from all of the direct stimulation on his head, the movement stopped, leaving only the unmoving hand at the base. He _whined_ , “ _Please!”_ His fingers gripped the wall, his hips rotating as best they could, his feet fidgeting against the ground. He wondered if the person on the other side of the wall could tell how desperate he was, wondered how well they could hear him, wondered if they were amused and enjoying breaking him down like this. The mortification was turning his gut along with the arousal, his wet lashes blinking and his sweaty forehead pressing against the hall in front of him.

The hand gripped tight, twisted the slightest bit as though trying to fully gauge the thickness of his cock, how hard he was, and it hurt for that brief moment, whimpering against the pane as he trembled before the hand was suddenly _moving._ Gripping tight and moving up and down vigorously. He yelled out, suddenly _too much_ stimulation after so much teasing, but it was oh so good.

He whimpered and cried, panting against the pane as the hand sped up its pace. “Please!” he cried, to slow down or to give him more he wasn’t sure, he was too enraptured with the pleasure being forced onto his trapped cock, full and pulsing, “God yes! _Please!_ Ah! N-nnnn, Close!”

His body tensed, his breath a staccato and he squeezed his eyes shut, mouth hanging open and preparing for the finale as his stomach seized and his balls tightened and-

Lance’s body thrashed; his nerves were shocked as the hand suddenly fell away at the cusp of his orgasm. His throat felt raw as a pained yell tore from it, his thighs and back aching with the tension and his hips working with a half an inch of space as they stressed against the bonds. He heard his voice, pitched far too high, and an unpleasant shudder ran down his back, his full, aching cock twitching in cold air, unable to seek out any stimulation. He breathed harshly, forcing air back into his lungs, rosy light filling his vision, fingers and toes squirming against the sweaty pane of the wall and the cool floor.

He was trembling when the hand was returned to his cock, fingertips grazing up and down the over-sensitive length. “A-ahhh, stop! _Hah ahh,_ please! _Too much!”_ He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, as the hand gripped and twisted around his cock, forcing the breath from his lungs and making him feel dizzy. He felt another hand join the first, fondling and massaging his balls, making him whimper into the wall.

The pace started up again, forcing him to forget the pain of overstimulation as pleasure once again began to flood his system, his body desperately chasing the orgasm they had denied him, trying to hump the wall as best he could. The hand stroked the whole length of his cock, slippery with either pre or lube, running along his length in smooth movements that sent a pleasant tingling through his groin, and when his balls were squeezed and a thumb flicked across the head of his cock and threw his head back as fireworks lit up behind his eyes in a pink sky.

His thighs trembled and he chewed his lips, trying his best to dig his heels into the floor to give some kind of leverage, just that little bit of movement that would feel so satisfying. “Yes, yes, _yes, yes!”_ Lance chanted. He didn’t dare say anything else, didn’t want to give any kind of indication of how close he was, was chasing his finish as fast as he could before it was stolen away again. He felt it coming, felt the heat building in his gut, the tingling along his spine, the jump of his cock and tightening of his balls-

The hand around his cock once again pulled away, the hand around his balls pinching around them in a painful squeeze, the cock ring around his base an absolutely unbearable pressure as he shook and _screamed._ A single fingertip drifted up and down the underside of his cock as he sobbed and ground his hips back and forth against the hall.

Before he had a chance to catch his breath again or to calm himself down from his near orgasm, the hand gripped tight and started stroking at his cock again. “ _No!”_ he sobbed, “I _can’t! Hah!_ God, please, I can’t! Ahhh, _nnngg_!”

It took much less time, riding on the previous coattails of pleasure, and again, feeling the pinch against his balls, a painful squeeze at the base of his cock when he petulantly spit out a curse towards the hand. And it continued, his balls too tight and cock too full, being brought to the edge only for his pleasure to be stopped in its tracks. He could no longer form words, just gasped and cried incoherently as he was left to take whatever the hand dealt to him.

Just as he was beginning to hyperventilate, not able to drag any more air into his lungs, the hands again left him completely. Lance’s body trembled, he whimpered around the frustrated sobs in his throat and felt wet tracks continuing down his cheeks. For a few blissful, absolutely torturous moments, he was able to get a reprieve. He flattened a check against the wall, staring into the blank wall to his side cast in the reddish glow.

He nearly choked as he felt something hot and wet trail up the underside of his cock. “Oh _shit,”_ he gasped in a voice like gravel. Fuck, whoever was behind that wall was using a _tongue._ Oh god, they were going to lick him, suck him, and oh _oh,_ oh _fuck_ that felt good. Hot breath misted around his aching erection and he prayed that this wasn’t going to be the same kind of torture as before. “Please,” he said to the wall, hoping he was heard on the other side, “I wanna cum. I want it. Please, let me _cum!_ ”

Whether they heard him or not he couldn’t say, but he sobbed a broken “ _Thank you!”_ When soft, tight lips wrapped around his head. He felt the tongue swirl around his tip, applying even pressure before they sucked harshly, making his entire body thrash. Pain seemed secondary to the sweet tingles and the warm, firm press of that muscle running all along his length, trying to taste every bit of him, leaving no nerve unaccounted for.

Just as slowly as the hand had when it had started to play with him the lips and tongue moved up and down his cock, taking their time, teasing him, paying no head to how much he _needed_ them to go faster. God, he was so ready, so close, had been teetering on the edge for who knew how long. The lips probably knew, but he could no longer keep hold on any train of thought.

“Give it to me!” he whined, breathless, “I’ll do anything, I promise. Anything! I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_! I wanna _cum_!”

The lips seemed to pause, before slowly lifting off of his stiff cock entirely. “No!” he sobbed. There was a pause, as he ground his body against the wall, muscles shaking, tongue lolling from his mouth, desperate for any kind of stimulation, before the lips sank down to the root, quickly, fully, laving him with saliva that felt so good against his tender length. Before he could fully react, the lips were moving, harshly, messily, suction keeping a constant pressure and drool dribbled over his balls that were being massaged quickly yet carefully. He felt rather than heard a loud, vibrating hum that he felt travel down the length of his cock and all the way up his spine until he saw sparks flying behind his eyes. He screamed and sobbed, his own drool dribbling against his chest.

“Yes, _yes_ , like that! Just like that! So good! _Oh god_!” he babbled mindlessly. His eyes rolled back, and his stomach clenched, he felt the beginnings of his orgasm for an uncountable time, but the lips kept moving, never stopping, no longer teasing and almost rough with the stimulation. He felt a smile break his face and could cry from the pleasure. God, please, let him cum!

The dam broke.

He felt a pain in his throat and his vocal cords vibrating but couldn’t hear a sound as white light overtook the rosy hue of the room and his head was thrown back. All the muscles in his groin finally loosened and he felt every nerve in his body hum as pleasure surged through his body and out through his cock. He couldn’t even tell if the lips caught any of the mess or if they let it all fall to the floor, but it wouldn’t have mattered. It was the most powerful orgasm of his life and he sobbed as if he saw God, all the way out here, in this remote corner of space.

He wasn’t sure how long he was out, when the white started to fade to pink, when he became aware of his hoarse voice filling the space, when he felt the chilly air kissing his sweaty skin, but when he did eventually come back to himself it was to the sweet pleasure-pain keeping him suspended in limbo. His muscles stayed tense, his jaw still open, his body starting to shake and his brain screaming _too much too much_ as he realized the lips were still moving, suction still pulling at his too-sensitive cock and a hot, wet tongue moving over the head, down to the base, swiping over his sack with a firm press that made them squeeze his eyes shut and a squeak fall from his lips.

Lance’s senses were suddenly too strong, every nerve ending alight with electric energy as he thrashed uselessly with sobs heaving from his lungs. The lips sped up their pace, faster than when they made him finish, and the pain started to outweigh the pleasure as he finally put his desperation to words, “Please! Please stop! Please stop! No!” In high pitched, wet pleas that ended with his lolling tongue slicking his chin and chest with more saliva. He felt like a mess, tortured with no power to stop it, no ounce of control, and his desperation went unheeded.

His orgasm caught him completely unaware. One moment he was sure he’d pass out from shock and the next his back was arched, head thrown back in a silent scream as he felt his balls tighten and his cock give a jump of pure, electrified pleasure as the lips continued to move roughly and unforgiving over his cock.

There’s ringing in his ears, tears clouding his vision, his entire body a taut cord waiting to snap. Slowly, as though time itself were against him, the lips plunge to his base, swallow, then keeping constant suction travel all the way up his length before he feels them pop off the tip. He greedily pulls in lungfuls of air like he’s drowning, every muscle feels sore and weary, exhaustion weighs him down. His limps twitch around his sobbing breaths, hoping against hope that the lips are satisfied and done playing with their prey. He feels a last merciless little flick against the head of his cock before the touch is gone for good, his poor, spent cock twitching constantly in the chill air.

Sweat beaded and rolled down his body. He can feel every drop as though his skin is hyper aware of every touch and sensation. He shakes, his head lolling side to side, dreading what could come next, please, please let him have a rest, just a few minutes of peace.

Lance heard the door open behind him, footsteps entering the room. He flinched as two pairs of hands started to undo his straps and support his weight as he fell away from the wall. His head lolled back to meet the guards from before. He didn’t turn away this time, he felt as though there’s not much dignity left to try and save at this point. But he watched with dread slowly returning to twist his stomach into knots as one of the guards covered the hole in the wall with the same square panel from earlier before moving the squares around in their strange little pattern again. When the next panel was removed, it is three holes waiting. One large with two smaller ones to the sides slightly above and framing the larger.

With little strength left he had no choice but to let himself be manhandled forward. The wall which had once been solid again seems to shift at the guard’s touch, becoming like liquid before his body is pushed forward. He struggled, but the guards easily overpowered him as the wall moved almost consciously around his arms and his waist. He squeezed his eyes shut, yelping in distress as he felt the wall again become solid, trapping him at the waist, his arms pinned in the smaller holes just beneath his elbows in such a position that he was forced to bend over, facing the ground and ass in the air on the opposite side in the original room. He could feel as his ankles are yet again immobilized, and he felt nervous sweat beading at his forehead.

He opened his eyes to a new, dimly lit room. It’s just as rosy pink as before, the room just as small, identical to the one has lower half is still trapped in. He realized on this side there is a sort of shelf that his torso can rest against to lessen some of the strain on his arms and waist. He trembled, knowing better than to assume he’ll be left alone this time. For several minutes he stares around the room, tensing for sudden touch to come at any moment.

Lance wasn’t left to wait long as the gentle, warm tickling sensation of fingertips running down his spine startled him. The hands carefully traced the planes of his back, the shape of his shoulders, swooping underneath to briefly press into his stomach, still sore from the earlier tension. He tried to take as many deep breaths as he could and tried not to show any signs of how the touch was affecting him. He hid his fear, his nerves… the small blazes of heat transferring from the tips of his fingers to flow through his groin.

The hands never left contact with his skin as they eventually moved back, towards where his ass would no doubt be on full display to whomever was appreciating his body. He bit his lip, as the hands circled around his cheeks, squeezing and massaging before moving down to circle around his thighs. Tiny little scrapes of nails accompanied the touch as they dragged up his inner thighs to the join of his legs.

“ _Ahh,_ haahh, F- _fuck,”_ he moaned as the hands scratched and rubbed and massaged down his legs, over his back, dug into his ass cheeks. He pressed his face into the surface underneath him and tried to stifle the noises flooding the room.

Before long the hands seemed to be satisfied with how his legs were twitching and his waist was grinding into open air. They teasingly ran up his legs and over his cheeks before parting them. He held his breath, his lungs burning, as something warm and slippery was poured between his cheeks. Whether it was saliva from his invisible, silent partner or some kind of lubricant he wasn’t sure, but the sudden warmth momentarily seemed to burn his over-sensitive skin before dropping down over his balls which tightened at the sensation.

The hands slowly introduced two thumbs to circle the lube around his hole, massaging it over his twitching muscle, firmly pressing along the outside of his rim as more liquid was dribbled down between his cheeks. It felt messy as it slowly worked its way down his thighs, the fingers running it over every inch of skin it could reach and flicking the thumbs over his hole. His cock, still in pain from his all-consuming orgasm not long ago slowly began to harden again. His muscles and nerves too shot and exhausted to even so much as make his cock twitch or his thighs to tense, he could only feel his cock slowly begin to fill as it hung between his legs and he tiredly resigned himself to the erotic treatment.

It almost felt soothing, relaxing his muscles without the almost violence of controlling his orgasm. Like they were letting him enjoy his muscles being worked, the sweet little burn of pleasure as he couldn’t fight the relaxing sensation of melting onto the shelf in front of him.

As the hands prodded and dug into the muscles of his waist and lower back Lance felt the too familiar touch of another pair of hands moving along his half hard erection, gently stroking and running lube-slicked fingers over the length and along his balls, massaging the fingers as carefully and deftly as the ones along his back, almost relaxing as it was erotic, ever so slowly bringing him to full hardness as they spread lube behind his balls and massaged into his perineum and up over his hole before repeating the process over again. He couldn’t help the pleased little gasps that huffed from his mouth as the sparks of pleasure built to war with the comforting sensation of caring hands working the stress from his body.

His cock didn’t so much as jump as it was steady stroked, his muscles like jelly and his mind a cloudy haze of contentment. The lubricant never seemed to lose any of its heat, keeping a warm flush along his skin and a blissful heat sinking into his body.

The hands manipulating his cock began to tighten around him, making him gasp and jump forward as best he could into the hand, but they never lost their lazy pace as they stroked him base to tip, spreading the messy, sweetly warm liquid over his thighs, his ass, his cock, the other pair of hands working into his shoulders and regularly teasing his twitching hole with flutters of fingertips.

The massaging hands stilled, one pair sweeping down his back before gripping his hips. They were stronger than he imagined compared with how delicate and precise they felt in movement but trying to rock against the hands proved them to be as immovable to stone as he was held in place. The hands around his cock and sack gave a few light, teasing strokes, before working their way back up to his hole, firmly pressing against the muscle now slick with copious amount of lube before slowly pressing in the tip of a thumb.

“Ah! N-no! Wait! _Haahhh_!” Lance whined into the table’s surface as the finger slowly and easily worked its way in and out, massaging against his rim and sending waves of heat to his cock, which now hung painfully hard and horribly ignored as the thumb pressed in incrementally deeper. It hooked in tiny little thrusts to massage along his walls. He rubbed his face against the surface under him, face on fire with a shame he couldn’t fully process from being held open and played with like a toy. Something to be manipulated to get the reactions they were looking for. And he was _enjoying_ it. God, he wanted to feel embarrassed, mortified, anything to show that he wasn’t some pervert who enjoyed being taken advantage of in this way, but those thoughts would soon leave him entirely as the thumb left his hole to be replaced by two long, slim fingers that twisted against his rim and they slowly made their way deep inside of him.

There was a slight burn and he clenched his teeth together as he rode through the momentary discomfort before it all melted away into a sweet, warm pleasure that radiated up his back as the fingers moved deeper, spreading his rim and stopping the breath in his lungs. The hands around his waist kept him still, unable to move away or against the intrusion. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted the invading fingers to pull out and leave him be or move faster and thrust into him, to take him out of this hazy limbo of pleasurable embers and rekindle the fire his body was craving.

He felt drool pooling out of the corner of his mouth and puddle against his cheek, not that he could help it or wipe it away. He panted and moaned as the fingers slowly began to scissor, stretching him open and stimulating his rim in a pleasure burn that forced a whine from between his lips. His eyelids fluttered and he felt encapsulated in red with sparks of white, his cock finally giving an exhausted jump between his thighs as the hands gripping his hips rubbed deeply and soothingly into the divots of his hips.

He felt as more warm lube was pushed into his hole, leaving his rim stupidly easy to glide in and out of, he felt it dribble down his crack and over his balls as the fingers finally fully inserted themselves inside of him, gentle pressure against his rim as tiny little thrusts worked them as deep as they could go. He felt them wriggle and the pads of fingers gliding along his walls, they pulled out for only a moment before a third finger was being added, gently spreading him with minimal discomfort as his cock began to drip strings of pre along with the line of lube dripping from the tip of his cock. He felt filthy, messy in a sense that left his hips grinding and his cheeks heating. Each finger scissoring apart and feeling along his walls, exploring as the tightness of his ass was lessened.

The fingertips grazed over his prostate, causing an automatic tensing of his muscle and sharp yelp of pleasure and the fingers stilled. There was tension filling the moment, an uncertainty that slowly began to bring him to the surface of whatever hazy spell he had been under. He felt the fingers twitch, felt them spread and hook, felt a tensing of the hand. “Wait-!”

The fingers pressed into the same spot again, breaking off his words with a shattered moan. He cried and gasped as the tips of those long fingers slowly circled and played with his sweet spot, experimental in how they applied different speed and pressures as his hoarse throat felt close to tearing with the force of his moans and his cock pulsed with arousal as he was stimulated from the inside. His eyes rolled and his mouth dropped open and his fingernails dig into his palms from where they hung in the air past the wall.

Just as tears began to gather in his eyes and his cries drowned out to silence as his lungs clenched from the onslaught of stimulation, the fingers stopped and eased their way out of him.

Lance trembled and blinked into the rosy light, grateful to finally be allowed to rest even though he was sure he wouldn’t be allowed long.

Both pairs of hands released him, and he was left untouched before hearing movement past the wall. He heard a scrape along the floor, the scratchy creak of metal against metal and he shuddered as fear once again began to overtake him and he glanced around the empty red room as his nerves again began to heighten.

He felt a pressure against his rim, slippery and warm but large, bigger than the long, spindly fingers that had been inside of him. It pressed forward and without meaning to he clenched, panic making his legs lock and back grow stiff. The pressure paused and he almost immediately felt a hand grab his cock and begin to stroke, steadily enough to build his pleasure, to make his thick, full cock jump into the pressure, but still slow enough that it didn’t overwhelm him. He felt small fingertips, whether it was from one hand or more he wasn’t sure, begin to prod and massage at his rim. He sobbed and moaned, humping into the feeling against his will and he was rewarded with a fist gently encasing the the head of his cock and using the slickness of the lube to twist and send pleasurable shockwaves through his body.

The pressure at his hole increased again, and the hand around his cock sped its pace to keep pleasure tipping the balance of discomfort as the blunt end of an object wriggled and worked its way past the muscle of his rim and inside of him. It was as warm as the heated lubricant, entering easily as he relaxed, but it wasn’t soft or yielding like a cock, it was clearly some kind of synthetic object that was slowly being pushed into him as his cock was stroked and his rim teased. It reached deeper than the fingers had, and it was definitely thicker though there was very little discomfort. Eventually, he felt a base press flush against his cheeks and the hands again left him.

After a moment there came a high keening sound, a grinding, a hum coming from the opposite side of the wall and ever so slowly the object moved out of the him before quickly being thrust back into him. He made a surprised sound in the back of his throat, but before being able to recover the dildo, how else could he describe it just by the feeling of it in his ass, picked up speed much too quickly for him to keep up. He could hear the keen and hum of a motor and before he could protest a steady rhythm was built and he felt he hips being ground into the wall as the dildo thrust powerfully inside of him, only pulling out about halfway before spreading him open and hitting home knocking the air from his lungs. “Ahh! Hnnggg, _f-fuuuck,_ Ooh-o-o-ohh!” his moaned in a staccato rhythm that matched the thrusts of the tireless, relentless fucking he was subjected to.

Before long, his cock was twitching, dripping, his balls tightening, his stomach tightening and feeling the first signs of orgasm. His voice climbed higher, chasing it despite the little warning bells ringing at the back of his consciousness, past rational thought as he desperately tried to work against the brutal thrusts. As much as he chased the finish, he couldn’t quite reach it, the finale he desperately wanted just out of his reach, his prostate only barely being grazed and his cock untouched, he was left in a broken limbo as he writhed and sobbed in frustration and agony.

The thrusts stayed at a constant pace and rhythm, taunting as he rubbed his face against the table messily in desperation, unable to stop moving even as he was pinned in the wall. He didn’t have the wherewithal to voice his need, how much he needed to be touched, to be fondled, to be handled as roughly as they wanted to take him if only they please, please, please give him the extra little push so his throbbing, sensitive cock that he could swear was being sensitized just from the droplets of lube still making their way down his shaft, would find some relief.

He felt tears leak from his eyes as he shifted ever so slightly in the space that he had, and the head of the dildo grazed his prostate a little more fully. He sobbed open mouthed into the table, subjugated to the endless stimulation and never quite finding enough to tip over the edge. His exhausted muscles finally seemed to reach a breaking point and he crashed fully onto the table’s surface, muscles going lax as the tension bled out of them, transferring to his full, swollen cock, balls probably turning purple with the strain, as he resigned himself to the machine fucking him in a cycle of pleasure and agony.

Lance lost track of time like that. His voice gave out, his body became limp, his eyes sightlessly staring ahead as all awareness and feeling seemed to be concentrated between his thighs.

Finally, finally, the machine slowed, and his mind seemed to fade in white light. He came back to consciousness as the dildo was being removed, his gaping hole twitching and leaking copious amount of warm lube and he felt more being dribbled down his crack.

He was going to die. There was no way his nervous system could take much more of this without going into complete shock. He was going to waste away like this, maybe they never planned on letting him leave and he would be trapped here to be strummed and played with no care to his own satisfaction.

He felt adrift in space, hardly noticing as a strong pair of hands came to rest on his hips, soothingly rubbing against his skin. Something long and hard was being pressed between his cheeks rubbing up and down over his sensitive rim and he whimpered pathetically as one hand circled around his waist to stroke at his cock, too sensitive to take any more than a few gentle touches without being sent into a shock of pain. They stroked once, in a firm slow pull, something that he took to be reassuring as he felt the other hand circle his back.

Then he felt a long cock start to press into his puffy, overused hole. He felt the large girth, similar to that of the dildo, as it easily slid into his slippery ass. He felt bumps and ridges press along his walls and he clenched his teeth at the onslaught of sensation.

Before the cock was even fully seated inside of him it began to thrust. Hands holding Lance’s hips right where they wanted him, even tugging him back until he his being pulled onto the alien cock, short little thrusts of no more than an inch in and out made him pick up his breathing again. Even without the powerful thrusts of before the added feeling of the bumpy cock pressing against his walls was enough to have him moaning and grinding back against the stranger’s cock, his own leaking and drool pooling at his mouth.

The thrusts steadily grew rougher, the strokes longer, and hands moving to feel along his sides and squeeze at his thighs.

“Have you learned your lesson?” a voice pulled him out of his lust-filled haze and he was able to raise his head just enough to see another hooded figure not unlike the judge, maybe it was the same person, standing at the opposite end of the room. They were unmoving and silent; he hadn’t been aware of them entering. And though he couldn’t see their face he got the distinct impression their eyes were intently studying him, maybe the atmosphere even seemed a little boastful as they saw his completely disheveled and desperate state.

“I-“ he tried to speak, but his overused, obliterated voice cracked and he was left gasping against the table again, uncaring of how he looked to anyone else as he was being pulled back into that thoughtless ether just a few steps within his reach.

“Answer,” they said, and their voice sounded annoyed, as though they had better places to be than in this room with a fucked-out boy lying in a pool of saliva and tears while orgasm was kept at bay for only god knows how long.

He licked his lips and tried again, “Y-yes. Yes, I- _haah, nnng ah._ I’ve l-learned. Please!”

“Are you ready to be bred?”

“Ugh, I-I _can’t-“_

“Answer!”

“Yes, _fuck_ , yes already! _Ple-e-ease_ give it to me!”

The figure turned and with the whoosh of the door was again out of sight. A few moments later the stranger’s thrusts slowed slightly, adjusted inside of him, trying different angles, searching for-

His eyes bulged and he screamed as the head of the textured cock inside of him directly hit his prostate. A moan tore from his broken throat as the hands once again gripped his hips, hard, and thrust long, full, powerful thrusts again and again directly into his sweet spot. The stimulation was overpowering, was too much, bordering on unbearable pain as his frayed nerves were battered again and again and as he tried to wriggle away the fingers of the hands on his hips dug into his skin in obvious warning.

He thrashed as much as he was able, unintelligible sounds leaving him and when he felt a hand grab at his cock, begin to stroke it to the same pace with the same ferocity as he was being fucked, he swore he saw god. He lost all of his senses save for the feeling of pure, liquid pleasure concentrated from the brutal pounding against his prostate and the relentless hand stroking the length of his thoroughly abused cock. His orgasm was all but torn from him and he screamed in a mix of pure pain and the greatest pleasure he’d ever experienced, barely registering the splash of heat and the erratic thrusts of the stranger as they spilled inside of him.

* * *

When Lance slowly started to come back to himself, he hadn’t moved. He was lying his full weight against the shelf, limbs still trapped and heated mess still spread along his skin. He breathed deeply, every muscle shaking and his stomach clenching. His skin was covered in a thick sheen of sweat with his bangs sticking to his forehead and the chill of the room feeling heavenly against his overheated skin.

“The second stage has just been complete on schedule,” a muffled voice could be heard through the wall clearly enough that even his ringing ears could pick it up. “We will be continuing to stage three.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked my writing, please leave a kudos! If you really liked it please leave a comment! Thank you for reading!


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